Not A Monster
by Ollie and Mochi
Summary: 2p Nations were created to fight wars. They were merciless killing machines. Oliver was made no different, but he has a flaw. He is in love with his Nation and he doesn't want to be used for war. /Human names used, Rated T for mild cursing and violence. I do not own Hetalia of any pictures used/
1. Prologue

**I do not own Hetalia, of course. Just the plot **

In the beginning, there were only the Nations. All was calm, all was peaceful. But when tensions started building, the Nations needed a way to protect themselves. How? With the formation of new representatives that could fight wars.

Oliver was no different. He was a weapon of mass destruction. His only problem was, he was in love with his Nation.

Arthur sat in his study, plotting against France yet again, as Oliver quietly stood out side the door. In his hand, was a beautifully decorated cupcake, and the strawberry blonde couldn't bring himself to knock on the door. Willing the flutter in his stomach to calm, a pale, freckled fist tapped lightly against the thick oak door.

"Come in." Came the coldly polite voice of the Nation that held Oliver's head and heart in his hands. Slowly, the younger male pushed the door open and crept into the room, smiling brightly as he set the plate down.

"I brought you a cupcake, love." Arthur glanced up at the beaming Brit and smiled slightly in return, not wanting to upset him. Mumbling a 'thank you' he silently went back to his work. Sighing softly, Oliver leaned over the desk and placed a chaste kiss atop the elder's head.

Without another word, the strawberry blonde left, Arthur flustered and grumbling to himself. Why did Oliver always have to be so sweet and kind? He was suppose to be a monster... a murderer. But, Arthur couldn't bring himself to think ill of the other.

Oliver quickly returned to the library and slunk into a chair, his heart beating rapidly. "O-oh dear.." He breathed deeply and willed his flushed face to go back to it's normal pale complexion. Oh how Arthur affected him so..


	2. Chapter 1

**I still don't own Hetalia **

A/n: I would like to let everyone know that this story is based of a head cannon of mine for the formation of the 2p's. If anyone wants to know, I'll explain it.

After coming up with a 'brilliant' plan on how to mess with France and hopefully take him down, Arthur summoned Oliver back to his study. Walking swiftly and quietly, the strawberry was back and seated in the room.

"Yes Artie, dear?" He asked, voice smooth as silk. He crossed his legs and smiled fondly at the Brit.

"I told you not to call me that," Arthur scoffed. "And I need you to go fight France. I came up with a better plan this time." Oliver visibly shrank back in his seat.

Whimpering softly, the strawberry blonde retreated his gaze from the elder and fidgeted with the hem of his light purple sweater. "P-please don't make me..." He looked as if he was about to burst into tears.

"Oliver-" The frowning man started, only to be corrected in calling him 'Ollie.' _"This _is what you were made for. You are to fight my battles. You protect me and do as I request." Arthur reminded him sternly.

"P-please don't bring me into you're affairs!" Oliver pleaded, tears dripping from his eyes and onto his khakis. "It hurts... it hurts so much.." His voice wavered as he spoke, overcome with the dread and fear of battle once again.

"I need you to do this... for me." There. He'd said it, tugged at the other's emotions once again. Hesitantly, Oliver nodded and quickly fled from the room, tears flowing freely from his eyes. He wasn't made for war. All he wanted was Arthur's love and his own happiness and freedom. Was that too much to ask?

Oliver remained in his room for several hours after receiving the news and Arthur's plan. It wasn't a difficult one, but it definitely involved himself getting hurt in the process. In all honesty, Oliver was terrified of blood and it sent him into shock to where he blacked out and usually found himself standing alone in a battle field.

That is what Arthur was hoping for.


	3. Chapter 2

**I still do not own Hetalia and thank you everyone who has left me reviews and follow/favorite this story. I know im not the swiftest updater, or the longest writer, but im trying! **

Feeling extreme guilt for making the sensitive man cry, Arthur stepped out of his study and headed towards Oliver's room, not to far from his own. With a calming sigh, Arthur tapped his knuckle against the Oak door and heard muffled sobs growing quieter.

"C-come in.." Came the meek reply of the strawberry-blonde who didn't seem to have the will to open the door as he usually did. Slowly, the Green-eyed man appeared around the corner and smiled gently at Oliver.

Oliver in turn curled more against the pale blue wall, the lightly shaded wood supporting him underneath. "What do you want?" He hiccupped out as the other approached, blood-shot eyes watching his every move. Slowly, Arthur crouched to his level and wiped away his stray tears.

"Please don't cry Ol-lie." He stuttered over the name, stopping short of calling him 'Oliver'. "Just this once no more after this." He said with an irregular gentleness. _'That's a lie.' _Arthur told himself. _'I'll hurt him again, I'll make him cry again, I'll send him off again.' _He felt an odd thickness form in his mouth and it was hard to swallow.

"P-promise?" Oliver choked out, leaning forward to wrap his thin arms around the blonde's mid-section.

"Yes." _'no.' _The elder knew he couldn't stop this from happening. Oliver was easily hurt and was mentally unstable. Messing with his mind like this was guild ridden for himself and painful to the strawberry-blonde. Without even thinking, Arthur slowly leaned down and captured Oliver's soft lips with his own chapped ones.

Blushing a lovely shade of scarlet, the younger pressed back. Knowing the kiss didn't really mean anything to Arthur and was only used to keep him calm, Oliver didn't care. _'Maybe one day it will mean something to both of us.' _He thought bitterly to himself as he slowly disconnected their lips and smiled reassuringly.

"Okay, Anything for you Arthur." One simple sentence holds the power of life and death. Arthur placed another chaste kiss to his lips before standing and pulling the younger up with him. Slowly, he walked over to the bed and sat Oliver down.

"You should get some rest... Ollie." Arthur's words were firm and gently commanding. Nodding slighty, the blue-eyed male wrapped his arms around the taller's neck and smiled.

"Won't you stay the night with me?" Hesitantly, he agreed, ignoring Oliver's request could be a fatal mistake. Arthur knew the other loved him with all of his heart, but this felt morally wrong; warping one's emotions and leading them on a leash like a dog. This way, he could at least make up for the suffering. Even if it made Oliver happy for a little while.

* * *

Making sure Oliver was still sound sleep, Arthur crept out of the room and down to his own. He knew the younger would be mildly upset he wasn't there when his baby, blue eyes opened, but he could always come up with an excuse later. Taking a shower to wash away his guilt, the elder sighed and thought about what he was going to do when Oliver returned. He would want something, anything, to show Arthur appreciated what he had done for him.

_'What a sap I've turned out to be. We're not even lovers.' _the term made him cringe slightly and he quickly dried and dressed. Today was not the day to think about that. He'd have time later. Today, he needed to start planning for Oliver's departure.

Back in his study, Arthur slipped into his chair and jotted down a few notes he would need to remember the amount of supplies he would need. A little while later, a sleepy strawberry-blonde crept into his office rubbing heavy eyes.

"Artie.. you left..." His soft feet patted against the floor boards as he wobbly made his way over and wrapped his arms around Arthur from behind.

Pealing the arms away, the green-eyed male turned around to face him. He was wearing his usual pink silk pajamas and his hair was messier than before. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't want to wake you so early."

"Oh.." Came Oliver's sleep slurred response. Carefully, he leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on the elder's cheek and mumbled a 'goodbye' as he left.

What would Arthur do with him gone? He was everything he wasn't. Naturally nice, sweet, and playful. A child-like innocence always surrounded Oliver and his smile was infectious. Arthur hated to admit it, but Oliver was not made to be manipulated for war, he deserved more. Much, much more.


	4. Chapter 3

Once everything was prepared and loaded onto the ship, Arthur went to fetch Oliver. In the younger Brit's room, it was tidy and orderly as everything always was, and Oliver was sitting on his bed, ankles crossed and hands folded in his lap.

"Oliver... It's time to leave." He spoke firm, with a hint of uneasiness. Slowly, he reached his hand out and picked the strawberry-blonde up to his feet. The pale flesh in his grip felt limp as he led the other through the halls and out to the main gate. "When you get back.." Arthur started, but pressed his lips to Oliver's ear before continuing. "I'll have a surprise for you."

With that said, Oliver was sent on his way, blissfully unaware of the hidden motive in the words. A happy grin on his face, the younger waved excitedly as the ship pulled out of port and set on its way to France. It wouldn't be long now. He'd have to talk with Francois and eventually fight him. The serrated knife clutched tightly in hand, Oliver disappeared below deck to get some rest.

* * *

Whilst Oliver was gone, Arthur felt the anxiety on his people and willed himself to calm. He was growing more and more paranoid that Oliver would lose and England would be at risk. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, the elder Brit sipped his tea and willed himself to stay calm. The other was capable of more than he was given credit for. Still though, Arthur was a nervous wreck

* * *

Upon arrival on the coast of France, Oliver had popped above deck and marveled at the sight. "Brilliant." He breathed out, leaning over the railing to get a better view. As soon as they were in port, the strawberry-blonde was the first off the ship and he took the chance to explore before meeting up with Francois.

_"Bonjour _Oliver." The gloomy Frenchman greeted, taking a drag of his cigarette. Slowly, Oliver walked into the plain room in the manor of Francis and Francois, and he sat across from the elder.

"H-Hello Francois.." The young Brit kept his gaze down and felt his eyes water from the amount of smoke in the room. He had to think of a way out of here and fast, his asthma was starting to bother him. "So, um... I came here to declare war on France, which I'm sure you're aware of, and I wanted to let you know that it will be different this time." Standing up, Oliver cleared the distance between them and held out his hand, the other raising an eyebrow in suspicion before taking the out stretched hand hesitantly.

In one swift movement, Oliver used the hand in his grasp to hold the other still as the blade he had sunk deep into Francois' abdomen. "I'm sorry, Don't take it personally." He moved the blade around, earning a muffled scream and quickly retreated from the room, blood covering his hands and clothes. "I'll see you later." The strawberry-blonde hummed, skipping away.

Francois layed on the ground, gasping for air and clutching his wound tightly. True, he couldn't die, but he still felt pain and blood still flowed from his wounds. By time the medical personnel had arrived, he was sitting in a pool of blood passed out.

This was only the beginning.

* * *

**Hey! Mochi here! I just want to let you all know that reviews are appreciated and I thank you all for liking this story so much. It is my first story as a writer so I'm trying my best! **


	5. Chapter 4

**_Hey everyone, Sorry I haven't updated in a while! I had a little stress put on me from sols, exams, final projects, and such so my creative flow was on stand by. Anyway, I'm writing this without prior planning, and the rating might go up... oh! And thanks to everyone who reviewed! It helps boost my confidence a lot! -Mochi _**

* * *

After calmly leaving the Frenchmen's home, Oliver quickly scurried through the winding, stone streets. Barks and hollers for him to 'stop' echoed off the buildings and called everyone's attention to the fleeing Brit.

Panting heavily, the exhausted strawberry-blonde crumpled against a large oak tree somewhere in the woods outside the city. "It's been almost a hundred years and it is still hard to escape the guards.." Oliver wheezed to himself, running a hand through his dampened hair and letting a sigh pass his lips. Honestly, he needed to find away to take down the French... the only place near by was Castlegard.

Realization slapped Oliver in the face as he thought about it. _'I can take Castlegard, give it to one of the generals, then go home! Perfect. That's what I'll do.' _He said to himself, standing on wobbly legs and taking a deep breath. This would be a long walk back to the ship, but at least it gave him time to refresh on the French he learned during their rule over England.

Once back on his ship to assemble his forces and formulate a plan, the usually Cheery Englishman called for all troops to meet on land. Once the few hundred men at gathered, Oliver spoke with an oddly serious tone. "Alright men, I have decided to go against our original plans and blow a chuck out of the French military. We are going to take Castlegard." Silence followed. "This is how it is going to work. I will leave here shortly, you all come an hour after. You are to wait in the surrounding woods until I give you a signal to storm it. Clear?" A chorus of 'clear's came from the English troops and Oliver smiled, gathered a few throwing knives, a bow, and some arrows, before setting off on his way.

He hummed as he walked along the dirt path, seeing that the French had given up their search. Looking around, he noted that hardly anyone traveled this way and it was too secluded for his taste. Trees littered the landscape and rivers hummed quietly beside the path.

In no time at all, however, the strawberry-blonde soon found himself standing outside of Castlegard, a wicked grin on his face. Though, someone started tugging at his jacket sleeve. With a puzzled look, Oliver turned to look down, seeing a little French girl.

Smiling gently, he crouched down to her level. "Bonjour. Je m'appelle Oliver. Et toi?" He beamed, proud of the French he remembered.

"Je m'appelle Claire." She said quietly, looking up at him with curious eyes. After a short conversation, Oliver had convinced Claire to show him around Castlegard, not knowing she was going to help lead to its demise.

**_woo, so 100 years war all up in here. And Claireis Lady Claire, whose death got the French to defeat the English and this is not historically accurate since I have no idea how the English took over Castlegard. Anyway, see you all next chapter! -Mochi _**


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